


Evening Park Break

by CravenWyvern



Series: Failed Step One [3]
Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drabble, Gen, No Plot/Plotless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 01:49:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13964751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CravenWyvern/pseuds/CravenWyvern
Summary: Shadow clones sure are weird, incomprehensible things, aren't they?And, as Wilson discovers, are not particularly fond of being poked and prodded.





	Evening Park Break

**Author's Note:**

> Only have a few more of these planned, then back to the rest of my projects (and hopefully the main story for this series)...
> 
> This one features the appearance of a Shadow Clone and even more things the characters know but the reader doesn't (and it's not fully explained either).

Ghastly cold aura? Check.

Three dimensional and yet seemingly 2nd dimension figure? Check.

Non detailed hands and indistinct facial features? Check.

Alarming vibrational lining that distorted the world around it? Check.

And the semi transparency, of course. Check that off the list.

With that out of the way, scratching his head and stuffing the small notepad back into his jacket pocket, Wilson stared up at the apparitions tall form.

These “shadow clones” sure were something.

He had no idea what that something was.

“You still messing with that thing?”

He glanced over to see Willow trot over to him, looking bored. When he looked back at the shadow he was only slightly surprised that it had turned its head to look at her. These things did react to stimulus after all, though usually only audio and verbal commands.

Anything else and they'd just stand there like lumps of shimmering, human shaped coal.

Or, to be more exact, like that gelatinous goop the old man handled all the damn time, whatever that stuff was. Maxwell wouldn't let him have a look at it, and that was rather unfair since the man let Wes of all people handle it.

Which maybe was for a reason. Wes didn't look like the sort to want to eat it.

It wasn't Wilson's fault that it looked like jello. He hasn't had that dessert in such a long time, and even with its odd jiggly movements he could almost imagine its flavor, which was probably grape. It had that grape purple black sheen to it.

“It's interesting, of course I'm still examining it.” Wilson scratched his chin, ignoring the slight scruff that had started to grow. Usually he'd shave, but nowadays he didn't exactly like shaving in public restrooms or fast food bathrooms, so he was letting it go for now.

Even if Maxwell gave him odd, slightly confused looks every now and again. He hasn't said anything to the effect of wanting Wilson to shave, and so far he's only had one weird event happen because of it.

Wilson still didn't know what to think about why that comment on getting ready for winter and “hunting beefalos” had anything to do with his slow growing beard. What the hell was a “beefalo” anyway?

“I don't want to miss the chance I have in seeing such a thing.” Wilson took a few steps closer, eyeing the clouded, shimmering look of its shadow form, straight backed and stiff. “Once we get going he'll get rid of it and I'll have to wait another few days to see it again.”

The shadow tilted its head at his voice, faceless and dark, and he couldn't quite tell if it actually was understanding him or not.

Willow pursed her lips and blew a small raspberry, and he was sure she was rolling her eyes but he currently was enthralled as a swirling mass of shadow moved about the things chest. It almost looked like a sun spot, or one of those pictures of the storms on gas giants, dark and edged with a purple tint.

He looked up and down its naked form, narrowing his eyes. At first glance it was colorless, but with the evening sun set it had its purple and lavender tones, bits of it lighter and more transparent than others.

That was another observation to note, and Wilson hurriedly dug out his notebook and jotted that down.

“Don't know why you bother with these things.” Willow crossed her arms, a little irritated with Wilson's all too obvious awe. “They give me the heebie jeebies, and if you ask me I think you should ignore them.”

She pushed away the urge to dig out her lighter, keeping her arms folded, and Wilson took his eyes off the notepad for only a few moments as he circled the thing. A shiver crawled up her spine as she watched its head tilt, turn to watch him, though thankfully it didn't do a full 360% degrees around.

If it had done that she'd have excused herself, probably to go try not to barf somewhere. These things were terrible to touch, messed up to even be around, and she didn't want to know how Maxwell even did it.

She really didn't like them, and didn't like it when _someone_ thought they needed “extra protection” and created the damn things.

The faint tinges of child laughter caught her attention, Willow turning her head and squinting her eyes over the field to the park.

The place was empty, probably since it was mostly out in the middle of nowhere, the road still paved but completely deserted. A little public restroom was set up here too, along with the playground, so it seemed like an obvious choice for a break from the driving. The kids needed to stretch their legs and get away from all the serious talk of adults after all.

Willow wasn't one for all that drama, but the fact of the matter was that she did have to be careful out here. She wasn't in her home state anymore, but she had to watch her step. No license, no identification, not even a single cent to her name, and whenever they stopped somewhere to eat or buy shit Wilson was the one to do all the work.

The guy was loaded, and from what he didn't really expand upon besides “inheritance”. Willow wanted to call bullshit on him, but he was really their only source of food right now. Wes had been working a part time job when they met him, and had very little to spare, and Maxwell was like her in the sense that he was almost a complete nobody.

Besides that unexplained connection with the girl, and Willow would someday get him to tell her all about that. Having a niece was a big thing, and then kidnapping your niece? 

Willow has never actively kidnapped someone before, so that's something new she can cross off her bucket list. Never thought she'd be an accomplice on stealing a kid though.

Speaking of said child, Willow could see her tromping back to them, leaving the other kid they had for some reason also kidnapped to his lonesome on the swings. From the laughing, he didn't look all too bothered with his playmate leaving him behind.

“Oh Jesus!” There was a yelp behind her, though thankfully it didn't sound in pain or fear. “Why is it so cold!?”

When she turned back Wilson was holding one of his arms close to his chest, rubbing his fingers together and looking highly distressed. The shadow stared down at him, completely unfazed, and Willow reminded herself that it wouldn't do anything unexpected unless Maxwell told it to. 

It wasn't like those awful things that watched the car late at night, crowded around it when everyone was sleeping but her. She's seen way too many empty eyes out in the darkness, and the only good feature of these things was its lack of that.

“What'd you do, ya numbskull?” Willow calmly strolled over, eyeing the shadow for a moment before looking at Wilson as he raised his hand out to her. She could see goosebumps, and his hands were all clawed up and stiff looking.

“I just touched it is all.” Wilsons voice had a needle thin whine to it, really irritating, but looking at him the man still looked very unnerved. He went back to messaging feeling into his fingers, working on untensing his hand and getting them warmed up again. “I hadn't realized it would be that cold to the touch.”

Willow glared at the shadow, which in turn tilted its head to the side and seemed to be looking directly at her.

“They're cold little shits, I told you that already.”

“You did?” Wilson raised an eyebrow in disbelief, wiggling his frozen hands fingers slowly as he got feeling back into them. “I don't remember you saying anything.”

“You just don't listen.” Willow took a step up to the shadow, its height only ever so slightly taller than her, straightening out and puffing out her own chest in mock aggression. She didn't think these things could feel or think or do any normal stuff, but this was more for Wilson's benefit than anything else.

And, unlike the shorter man, Willow knew a few tricks to these things. It's what happens when one had to deal with three of them in a small apartment for a few weeks.

And that didn't include the ghastly wisp of an old fart she had to deal with too back then. The man had been a wreck and wouldn't even tell her why!

Though she supposed that was pretty fair. She had made threats against his person and had knocked him out that first time they had met. 

And also almost killed him.

But she had thought he was some sort of creepy serial killer or rapist then. Who also somehow had weird ass “magic” and shadow...things that did what he told them to do.

Willow was fairly relieved he didn't seem to hold all that against her though. Hell, seeing the old man bring someone back to life kind of really changes how one sees a person.

God damn it he better not be some messiah or some shit. She didn't even believe in god, and if somehow she got tangled into religious prophecies she was going to see herself out right quick.

“Now, you listen here.” She waved a finger in the things face, glowering at its little head tilt. “You stop being rude, ya hear me? I know for a fact that you're not really all that cold.”

Well, maybe they were a bit cold, but not enough to almost freeze a person's hand in place! From her experience of having to shove these things around and have them get out of her way in a cramped apartment, she knew it could be a little more amiable.

“Willow I don't think it can understand-”

“Shut up Wilson I'm talking.” She waved a hand at him, still keeping a glare fixed to the things blank face. “Now, you're supposed to be protecting us, yeah? Then you better be normal enough to be around safely.”

For a moment there was silence, nothing happening at all.

And then very suddenly the cold permeating off of it vanished, replaced by the evenings normal, lukewarm air. Willow huffed out a breath and stepped back, crossing her arms triumphantly as Wilson looked back and forth between her and the shadow.

“How did-” Wilson shook his head, suddenly grabbing for his notepad to scribble madly inside. “It just listens to you!? Why? How? I thought it only listened to Maxwell?”

He tapped his pen against his chin, looking thoughtful as he muttered indistinctly for a moment. Willow could pick up the phrases “temperature change” and “sentient enough to be rude” under his breath, before she interrupted him firmly.

“You just have to be assertive is all.” She stretched her arms over her head, yawning nonchalantly. “Can't order them around or anything, but that doesn't mean they have to be assholes all the damn time.”

At Wilsons perplexed, frazzled look, Willow shrugged. “I don't like the cold, and they can at least be polite enough to not freeze me to death.”

“What is polite enough to freeze you to death, Willow?”

Wilson blinked in surprise at the sudden appearance of Wendy, the girl looking back and forth between him and Willow, completely disregarding the shadows presence.

“Polite enough to not, freeze me to death.” Willow clarified and wagged a finger at the girls solemn face. “I'd rather not go out that way, thank you very much.”

“Ah.” said Wendy, nodding her head as if she understood the full context. “I suppose you would much rather pass into the next life with a blaze of glory?”

“Blaze, hell yeah.” Willow shrugged, ignoring Wilsons ever so slightly mortified look. “Glory, not so much.”

Just as Wilson was about to try and derail the conversation, the topic of death not quite up his alley, Wendy turned her gaze to the dark shimmering being, not at all looking stressed by its presence.

“Is my uncles shadow being a bother?”

“Not at all, not at all-”

“It's the other way around, Wilson's the one bugging it.”

This girl has far too much power in her gaze, Wilson thought to himself, obviously not at all quailing under a child's level eyed stare.

“I'm just experimenting is all.” Wilson took in a breath, the tingling numbness in his arm and fingers finally having faded away. He composed himself, placing his notes back into his pocket and crossing his arms, adopting a more serious, adult like expression. Wendy was just a child; there was no reason for him to act so immature around her. He was supposed to be a good influence around her.

After all, the only people she had right now was her odd uncle, a part time mime, another child about her age, and Willow. Wilson would have to be the one to step up around these kids, even if he very much did not want to.

“If one wants to understand something, one has to take certain measures to learn something new.”

“In other words,” butted in Willow, putting her arm on his shoulder and leaning heavily onto him, very much trying to overbalance him and make him look like a fool, “he's been scribbling and staring at it all day, and has only just now tried to poke it.”

“There is an order to this you know!” Wilson cleared his throat at Wendy's glance, trying to not feel disturbed by the fact that he knew she was judging him. A child's opinion on him did not matter.

What did matter was when they tried to egg his house, but that was long over with now that said house was in ruined shambles. Those kids sure did have a lot of time on their hands, hiking all the way from town up to his place just to make a mess of the front yard.

He wondered, briefly, on if they called the police when they saw the destruction. He also wondered on it they thought he was dead under that rubble.

He wondered, for a moment, on if they felt guilty at all.

“Perhaps,” Wendy said, a lilting sing song pitch in her voice as she clasped her hands behind her back and watched him intently, “It would be wiser to have more witnesses, in case something truly gruesome occured?”

Wilson cleared his throat again, nervous at the obvious intent of attention and the implications of something terrible happening to him, but Wendy had turned her gaze over to Willow, speaking as the woman finally stopped leaning all her weight against Wilson.

“What of my uncle and Wes? Wouldn't they wish to watch as well?”

Willow suddenly adopted a sly, shit eating grin, which Wilson took as her suddenly going to say something completely off topic and possibly full of drama.

“Actually, you just reminded me of something.” She swung herself around to look at Wilson, that look still on her face.

“I wanted to know, _Wilson_ ,” she had put emphasis on his name for some reason, the man blinking at her confusedly at the sudden shift in tone, “If you know why those two are always holed up in the car whenever we end up in these quiet places.”

Wilson squinted his eyes at her, frowning ever so slight. 

“You should know that Willow.” He really had no idea what she was trying to do, but that was a really stupid question if you asked him. “Maxwell threw up when we stopped, you know he gets sick all the time.”

Willow pouted her lips, obviously not getting the answer she wanted as she put her hands on her hips.

“As if he'd be sick for hours and hours and hours Wilson.”

“He was back at-” Wilson stopped for a moment, glance darting over to Wendy's observant face. He was pretty sure the kids hadn't known what had happened back at that actresses place, not all of it anyway.

They obviously saw the theater burn down, but hadn't quite seen the, uh. Aftermath of all that.

Maxwell had locked himself in that spare room for days afterwards, so the kids had probably known something was up. And once he got out, looking pale and shaken, Wigfrid would go white faced and leave any room he entered immediately.

The only good thing out of that trip had been the woman's cooking and the fact that she was good with the kids. Also no one had died.

“Back at you know where.” From the sudden shift in Willows expression, she did.

Wilson hadn't been in the building with them, had been more preoccupied with the children. Willow had been.

She had also been slightly on fire when she had gotten out, with not a trace of injury on her.

Still made Wilsons head hurt when he thought about it.

Willow frowned at him, crossing her arms and turning her head up. Maybe not such a good idea bringing all that up.

Wigfrid had been a friend to her, once. He didn't think they were friends anymore.

“Well, pretty sure the old geezer isn't all that sick.” She grumbled, shifting her weight in the grass and glaring at the ground. “And even if he was, Wes doesn't have to coop himself up in there with the old fart.”

Wendy actually giggled ever so slightly at that, a break in the tenseness Wilson had accidently created, and Willow brightened as she looked over the kid.

“Whatever, those two bums are missing out.” She bumped up next to Wendy, almost pushing her off balance and causing the girl to snort out another little laugh, Willows use of non serious words probably very funny to a child so young.

Wilson rolled his eyes, crossing his own arms as he glanced over to the shadow, still stiff and still watching them, head tilted ever so slightly.

“You and me, we can bare witness to Wilsons untimely demise.” Willow smiled widely, waving a hand over at Wilsons not so serious frown.

“We shall have to write an obituary for him.” Wendy seemed a little lighter than usual, Willow playing into the girls game seeming to make her more enthusiastic.

“And plan a funeral, of course!” 

“Hardy har har.” Wilson gestured to the two, looking at the shadow as it seemed to look at him. “Can you believe these two? I'm not even dead yet.”

“Oh, poor dear genius Wilson, having poked a shadow and caught frostbite!” Willow lamented, throwing her arm up over her face and pretending to look like she was in the throes of grief but failing miserably due to the wide grin spread over her face.”Sometimes I can still hear his voice!”

Willow looked at Wendy from under her raised arm and Wendy looked up at Willow, and then the both of them exploded into giggling laughter, the girls quieter and trying to be restrained as Willow laughed boisterously. Wilson huffed, not quite able to stop the quirk or his mouth and the bubbling feeling in his chest.

Sometimes it was rather nice to be surrounded by these sorts of people. Maybe he's been alone so long that he's forgotten what it felt like, to be with people who liked him.

“So.” Willow clapped her hands, still grinning widely, and Wendy clasped her hands together and tilted her head at him, the workings of a faint smile still on her face. “What's your next experimental touch then, genius?”

“Well…”

Wilson tapped his chin, turning to look up at the stiff shadow, its sharp corners and odd dimensions, the swirling purple tinged colors of its being still colorful under the setting sun.

He pointed up, to its head, and glanced over to the two watching him.

“I am sure you have noticed that this particular specimen lacks any facial features, correct?”

Before Willow could open her big mouth and interrupt him, Wilson stared back up to the empty beings face thoughtfully and plowed on.

“But it very much looks as if it has the dips and textures necessary, though at certain angles these disappear into a flat surface.”

He grabbed the sides of his open jacket, attempted to look more professional, and smiled as confidently as possible.

“For my next experiment, I wish to know what this shadows face is like.”

A brief moment of silence passed before Wendy clapped politely, Wilson smiling with relief at the reception of his play. He was never very good at this sort of acting, but it seemed like he had pulled it off quite well.

“Get along then, Mr. Scientist. All the world must know of what a shadows face feels like.”

Willow chuckled, and her face wasn't as tense or stressed as it usually was, she looked fairly relaxed actually, and Wilson felt another warm burst of confidence.

This wasn't a serious thing, not at all, but it was still a nice break from everything else.

Even if it included something like a dark shadow shaped in the form of a man he knew.

With that, Wilson raised up his hand, wiggled his fingers for a theatrical pause, and firmly placed them onto the shadows blank face.

Willow watched, a funny sight with Wilson stretching himself to reach the things face. Wendy waited next to her.

“Well,” said Wilson, looking thoughtful, “It is still quite cold.”

And then Willow watched as the shadow raised up its shapeless hand, which didn't look nearly as shapeless as before, and proceeded to place its own hand right onto Wilson's face.

For a moment they stood like that, and Willow bit her lip to keep from laughing because that sure was a funny sight.

And then Wilson stumbled back a few steps, sticking his tongue out and looking vaguely disgusted, the shadow keeping its own hand out for a moment before raising it up to almost look at it.

“Oh god that was terrible!” Wilson turned away to spit, making grossed out noises as Willow couldn't hold it in any longer and started laughing again, even harder than before.

“Your-youre face!” She clutched at her stomach, tears in her eyes at remembering the wide eyed stare he had given the shadow before realizing his mouth had been open when it had touched him. The woman could barely speak from the laughter she had in her; that face of his will be one she will cherish, she swore to herself.

Meanwhile Wilson was still sticking his tongue out, waving his hands as if he wanted to scrape his tongue but not quite going to those lengths, wholly focused on the flavor still ingrained in his mouth.

“I’ wah ‘ike ‘arcoal, oh tahr!” He spat out a bit more, finally giving in and using his hands to try and clean his tongue. “That was so gross!”

The shadow, for its part, finally stopped staring at its hand and let its arm drop to its side, tilting its head at Wilson as Wendy watched it quietly.

Willow wiped away the tears in her eyes, still smiling broadly as she walked over to Wilsons side and clapped him on the back, looking about them for a moment, gaze settling on the playground and the sets of swings in the distance.

“Well, we sure did learn something new today, hey Wendy?” 

Wendy nodded her head, though Willow had already moved on, elbowing Wilson to get his attention away from scraping the taste out of his mouth.

“You done with your experimenting today then? Cause I just thought of something much funner to do.”

“What is more fun than science.” Wilson answered a little glumly, glowering at the ground and licking his lips with an obvious look of disgust still on him.

“Swings, of course!”

“W-what?”

Wilson looked confused, and Wendy watched as Willow started to tug him along, a little hop in her step. He glanced back to the still shadow, and when he spoke he sounded ever so slightly offended, almost making Wendy smile again.

“What of the shadow, we can't leave it alone!” He dug in his feet, which didn't at all deter Willow. “It might stick its hands into other peoples mouths, think of the chaos it could cause!”

He sounded a little half hearted to Wendy, and she walked over to the shadows side, staring at the short man.

“Eh, Wendy will watch it, right kid?” Willow glanced over to her, eyebrows raising, and in the distance Wendy could still see her friend playing on the swing, still trying to rise higher and higher.

Webber liked the swings. He told her that, if you swung higher than the bar, then you'd be transferred into another world, another place, another universe even. Wendy had told him that wasn't true, but one never knew.

The world worked in mysterious ways.

Wendy nodded, glancing up at the shadow and then back to watch Wilson finally give in to Willows pressuring.

He trailed behind her for a few moments, but seeing the woman blaze ahead of him to the swings seemed to wake him up and Wendy watched as two full grown adults raced to get to the playground first, a bit of their hollering making its way incomprehensibly back to her.

When she looked back up to the shadow, it had tilted its empty face and stared down at her. It was almost as if it was actually seeing her, staring eye to nonexistent eye, gaze to invisible gaze.

Then Wendy reached over and wrapped her hand into its non formed hand, wrapping her fingers around as she felt the shadow mold and and do the same.

“Will you help me with a crossword puzzle?”

It didn't answer, but Wendy didn't need it to.

She reached into one of her pockets, one hand taking out the folded bit of newspaper she had ripped out for the puzzles, the crossword her focus. She lifted it up to the shadows dark face, showing it for a moment as it tilted its head.

A quick glance around revealed a nearby park table, stone benches as well, and it was easy to lead the shadow over by hand. 

Out came her pen, something she found in the cushions of Wes's RV, the ink half gone and blotting whenever she used it. But Wendy was used to worse supplies and this particular pen has worked for her so far.

The crossword was, after all, almost done. She could finish it herself if she so wished, Webbers own handwriting shaky in a few places.

For now, however, she glanced up at the shadow seated neatly next to her, its face still turned to her. Wendy held out the pen, expectant and patient.

A moment later the shadow delicately wrapped thin, fully formed fingers about it, lightly took the pen from her grasp and looked down upon the ripped shred of newspaper, at the puzzle she had almost completed.

It was silent, didn't talk at all as it carefully pointed this and that out, sometimes slowly, elegantly writing out the answer in the boxes, or a phrase in the borders.

In Latin, of course, just like the commands and words her uncle used to direct these beings. Wendy did not know any Latin, never learned, never was given the opportunity.

She did not understand what it wrote to her, but that was okay. She didn't need it too.

All she asked was for some help with the crossword, and the shadow clone was doing exactly that.

Faintly, very small and quiet, Wendy smiled.


End file.
